The Bride of the Viking
by roserouge20
Summary: In a way to end the war between the fairies & Vikings, Niall hatches a plan that has Granddaughter Sookie to be bride to leader Eric Northman. The problem: They have no way of understanding each other, as Eric doesn't speak in her native tongue, or so she thinks. Can Sookie turn the Vikings into allies & meanwhile settle into life as a Vikings lady? AU, Faery Sookie x Viking Eric.
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing to do with Southern Vampire Mysteries or True Blood, they belong to Charlaine Harris and the creators. I'm just a fan of the characters. **

**I wanted to try write a story where Sookie is a somewhat powerful Faery princess, who gets "sold" to the Viking chieftain, Eric, to end all rifts between the two parties and form an alliance. Eric's character will hopefully be similar to his flashbacks as a human; He'll be cheeky, cunning, and have a love for women. Sookie has lived a sheltered life in her realm of Faerydom, her Kingdom with her Grandfather Ruler Niall and Grandmother Queen Adele. Her lifestyle and the Vikings lifestyle are very different, so she'll have some trouble with that.**

**This is also inspired by Khal Drogo and Dannerys in Game of Thrones, Tarzan and Jane, and Romeo and Juliet with both families warring. :-) Eric won't be much of a talker at first, or so Sookie thinks. Her Grandfather has a very biased opinion on the Vikings, thanks to tales he has heard of them, so that creates half the misunderstandings Sookie has. There will be romance, humour, and action in this story.**

**I have probably bitten off more than I can chew with this; I don't know everything about how vikings lived, their traditions, etc, so I apologize for any mistakes that aren't historically correct. This is all mainly intended as good fun. :) Feel free to let me know if I've written something wrong according to the times; Help is always appreciated. **

**I'm sure there has been many story-lines similar to this one, but I hope it will be different and that you will like it. Feel free to let me know your thoughts. **

* * *

**The Bride of the Viking**

_For this alliance may so happy prove  
__To turn your households' rancor to pure love- Romeo and Juliet. _

Niall held up the gown to his Granddaughter, Sookie, for her inspection. "This is the finest silk, my dear," he told her. "You will wear this, once King Eric enters our realm and you are to go off as his little bride-to-be. Feel the fabric. Go on."

A little reluctantly, Sookie reached down and touched the fabric of the dress. It felt slippery and luxurious on her fingertips. She hadn't felt a fabric so beautiful before. "Is this really for me, from him?"

"Yes. A gift from the Viking," Niall said, smiling kindly. "It is most beautiful, isn't it? You will wear this when you present yourself to him. He expects it from his little bride-to-be. You should look angelic and worthy of a queen in its white fabric, and with your hair. Tonight, you must look every bit the Faery princess for the Viking. You must capture his eye. The fate of our land rests with you."

It was a big request sitting on her shoulders, Sookie knew. Her Grandfather had made the arrangement that, when she come of age, she will wed Eric Northman, leader of the Vikings. A feud had been heavy over the two lands for many years now. Niall knew the only way to earn peace with the Vikings, was for him to give them something as a present, something that would end all rifts forever. Sookie was afraid of meeting the Viking leader, she couldn't pretend otherwise. He was known for his barbaric and rebellious ways. He was a skilled fighter, who had slaughtered many of her people. In retaliation, Niall, King of Faerydom, had sent off his best group of men, and they had slaughtered women and children in their part of the lands.

The feud was still ongoing, but Niall hoped with all his might that giving off his most precious Granddaughter would cause the Viking's army to desist.

He had no doubts that it wouldn't go his way; Sookie had just reached age, sixteen years. Her courses were regular. She had learned to master her gifts of telepathy and telekinesis. But above all that, she had developed into a beautiful, strong young woman; with the long, luscious locks of blonde hair that was common with the Faery kind, who knew what was needed of her to grant peace between both lands for years to come.

Niall hung the white gown on the back of the door. "I have sent for some servants to bathe you before the Viking arrives with his Army," he said soothingly. "Be sure you wash off everything, all the dirt on your fingers and toes from walking around the gardens. Be sure you look every bit the beauty as you always have been for the Viking." He studied her features tenderly. "When the Viking arrives with his many men on horseback, you will offer yourself to him. I will introduce you, and you will leave the Faerie realm with him immediately." He took her face in his hands gently and laid a kiss on her forehead. "You will do all of us proud. Be sure to please him, and then the fuels between Viking and Faery will end at last. There will be no more slaughtering, or acts of retaliation. Be sure you capture his heart." He touched a strand of her hair gently. "In doing this, you will finally bring both lands together and end all conflict. They will become our most trusted allies, if you succeed. We could certainly use them as our allies. Are you ready for this, my dearest?"

"Not really," she said meekly. "I have heard about their barbaric ways. What if the Viking King is every bit as harsh and cruel as they think?"

He hushed her gently and patted her cheek, with affection. "It may be hard, but everything rests with you. You decide our fate, dearest. If the King Eric chooses to be barbaric and rough, you must let him, if it pleases him."

"Yes, Grandfather," she agreed obediently. "I will do you proud."

"Oh, but you already have, my dear."

With one last kiss bestowed on her forehead, he left her to some privacy for the servants to come in and bathe her. Sookie turned and stared wistfully outside the window, taking a long look at her home, at her Kingdom. Already, she could tell the Viking's were on their way into the realm. Usually Faerydom was a bright and sunny place. But far, far away, a part of the skies were a murky grey. Whenever there was an intrusion in Faerydom, especially of the Viking kind, it tended to get dark and gloomy. It told Sookie that the Viking king was approaching, with his countless army of men on horseback. They were making the journey to her.

The slaves entered and she turned with resolve to get prepared for the Viking's.

Once the slaves washed her thoroughly, and she was clean of all dirt, they helped her rise from the tub and patted her down. One of the slaves brushed her long hair until it resembled long smooth strands of wheat, and then another collected the white gown and helped her dress. A servant girl sat down at her feet and helped her slide her feet into a pair of sandals, while another fussed around with putting the finest silver jewelry of bracelets and rings on her wrists and fingers.

"Already you look a man's wet dream," one of the slave girl's said appreciatively. "The Viking King will want you the instance he sees you, if you wear this. You look every bit the Faery princess that you are."

"Thank you," Sookie smiled nervously.

When her Grandfather entered, he looked her over with admiration and offered his arm to her. When Sookie hooked her hand over his arm and let him lead the way, she realized she was trembling.

"The Viking's are coming," she informed him quietly. "They are on their way. You can tell by the sky, Grandpa."

"Yes, you most certainly can tell," her Grandfather agreed, peering up at the vastly changing sky himself. The clouds were forming a thick, murky cover in front of the sun, locking any of its light from escaping into the land.

Then a crackle of thunder roared seconds later, and Niall made a noise of delight.

"They have arrived," he told her. Sookie tightened her hand over his arm, and leaned into him. She couldn't seem to stop trembling. "Relax, my dearest," he assured her softly. "They must be on their best behavior. You will not be harmed."

The Viking's arrived then. At first, there wasn't any sight of them, only just the sound of hooves and horse whinnies in the distance. Then they passed in, a long line of men on horseback, riding at fast and impatient speeds. Sookie examined the men closely as they all entered.

They all looked feral and rugged, unlike all the men in the Fae Kingdom Sookie grew up with, who bathed daily and prided themselves on their wholesome- almost effeminate- appearances.

She couldn't tell which one was leader Eric, her betrothed, but she noticed all had the similar look about them. Their hair was long, and some men's hair went just below their waists, some in intricate braids. Sookie had never seen men with such long hair before, even in Faerydom, when most of the men had a preference for long over short. Most of the men wore nothing but trousers, and loose-fitted, crimson-colored tunics and their hands were clenched around the hilt of their swords, as if ready to defend themselves if Grandfather Niall had lured them in wrongfully. Some had tattoos around their collarbones of strange and ancient tattoos, and only one, who looked around Sookie's age, had the shortest, darkest hair. He had an axe resting on the top of his shoulder.

One of the men shouted something in their Viking tongue, and the horses spread out in a long line, the men facing Sookie and her Grandfather Niall.

"Which one is to be my husband?" she whispered quietly into her Grandfather's ear.

Niall took a while to answer; He looked confounded himself. Perhaps he hadn't met the leader of the Viking either, Sookie wondered. Then his luminous eyes settled on one of the figures, and he leaned in to whisper back to her. "The Viking on third on the right, on his white stallion," Niall explained, and Sookie's eyes instantly found the man.

He was older than Sookie, an older man, about in his late twenties or so. Strong and well-built, he had his sword drawn by the side of his glorious white stallion. Sookie wanted to run and hide when she realized he was staring at her in the white gown he had given her as a gift. The Viking leader was a head taller than most of his other men on their horses, and his hair was longest of all, spread out around his shoulders in blonde, thick strands. He had smears of dirt all over his face, and his chin and upper lip were covered in thick, little hairs. Evidently the Viking men hadn't washed for the special occasion, like she had. It was known to the Faerie's that their way of living was less refined. The King started speaking loudly and quickly in a tongue Sookie couldn't understand, as he stared at her fixedly. Some of the other Viking's on horseback were scrutinizing her with lust in their eyes.

"What are they saying?" Sookie asked anxiously, her eyes not leaving her husband-to-be.

"They speak Viking," her Grandfather explained. "Scandinavian or Norse, I don't know. A tongue too quick and foreign for my ears to understand. Most do not speak English."

"The leader does, though, doesn't he?" Sookie imagined it would be a lot more difficult if the man she was expected to marry couldn't understand her.

"I'm not certain, my dear."

"What's supposed to happen now?"

"I am waiting for King Eric to give me a sign. If he gets off that horse and approaches you, it means he has accepted my gift."

Finally, Eric Northman climbed off his horse and approached the pair. He wore tight knee-length boots, and his trousers were ripped and torn. He also had dirt and cuts on his large hands, and he had a four inch-long scar on his chest from a blade in a battle. Sookie immediately had her doubts when he came to stand in front of her; He smelled like sweat, and it was clear he hadn't bathed in months, yet his hair was the finest she had seen in a man. He looked hard and beastly, though, and his eyes stared directly in hers brazenly. His eyes were a cold, frosty grey that chilled her to the bone. They were bright and intent on her.

"Greetings, King Eric of the Vikings," Niall began pleasantly. "This here is my Granddaughter Sookie. I give her to you as a gift to alleviate the feuds between us. I want you to become my ally, not my enemy. I want us to be at peace; Your kind, and mine."

If King Eric understood her Grandfather's spoken words, he did not show it. He simply stared at Sookie blankly, and he was muttering something to his men underneath his breath.

Things weren't going so according to plan. Niall never expected a language difference between them.

"He doesn't understand us," Sookie whispered in a thin, shaky voice. "He can't speak English, Grandpa. Are you sure you still want this for me?"

"Put one of your angelic smiles on your face for him," her Grandfather directed her.

Standing up straighter, Sookie did. The Viking Eric stepped back a bit, as if blinded by the sight, his eyes narrow, hard slits of confusion. Then with a coarse grunt through his teeth, he suddenly lunged forward, grasped Sookie by the waist, and lifted her over his shoulder. Startled, Sookie stared at her Grandfather for help as the Viking began carrying her over to his horse. With ease, he seemed to hoist her up on the rear end of the stallion, and then the Viking leader quickly followed in mounting. He took hold of her smooth hands in his rough ones and brought them over his back so she had something to cling onto, and then he shouted something harshly at his men.

The white stallion lunged forward and off Sookie went, galloping on horseback with a man she had no idea how to understand.


	2. Chapter 2

I want to thank you all so much for your kind response, I was so shocked by how fast everything was. Thank you, it's very appreciated, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I hope to update twice a week because real life is really slow at the moment. Please let me know your thoughts on this one. Thank you! :-) Sorry if it's crappy!

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_**Chapter Two**_

Niall knew Adele was coming when a blast of heavy wind knocked his hat off his head from where he sat, admiring his lands in the distance.

The Vikings and his Granddaughter had only just exited the realm; He could tell so from the skies. The clouds were cleaning up, and bright early morning rays were beginning to seep into the Kingdom again, but a fierce strong wind came on abruptly, shaking and knocking the trees about. Only one woman was capable in Faedom of effecting the winds and weather whenever she pleased; His beloved wife, Adele. It was her talent, and only hers alone to possess.

"Gods, Adele," he laughed, scooping down to snatch his hat off the ground before it picked up with the wind and was lost forever. "Are you trying to blow down the entire Kingdom into rubble, my love?"

He plopped it back on his head and turned to look at her. There was a crazed, furious look in her eyes, and Niall knew she had finally understood her Granddaughter was missing from her bed.

"What have you done?" Adele hissed in outrage. "You've sent Sookie off, haven't you? She's not in her bed, like she usually is at this hour!"

"Calm down," he urged her desperately, when the winds picked up again. He clasped a hand tightly over the top of his hat to prevent it from flying off again. "You have known for years, what I had planned for Sookie."

"I did, but I never thought you would actually be fool enough to do it!"

Niall frowned, stung by her words. "My dear, even _you_ can't say it was an act of a fool in sending her off along with the Vikings. _You_ especially have always wanted peace in the lands, and that was exactly why I did it. You can't fault me for that."

"I _do_ want peace," she admitted fiercely. "I have always wanted it, yes. But _not_ at the cost of Sookie's life. How could you have sent her off with those brutes?"

"Adele, no harm will come to her," he assured her confidently. "The Vikings _will_ treat her well, and Sookie understands what her role is."

"How can you_ possibly_ say that no harm will come to her, Niall? She's_ just_ a girl! She _wasn't_ ready!"

"Don't undermine her powers and her strength," he argued over her grimly. "She may be a girl but the Vikings are men. Plain mortals. They may seem strong and crass, but Sookie is stronger than all of them combined, as they are _simply_ men! Sookie is incredibly powerful for her age, and if any of them come as a threat to her, she will defend herself. She knows how to defend herself with her powers and use them to her advantage."

Adele couldn't be swayed by his words of reassurance; The angry look in her eyes didn't disappear.

"Still, the issue remains that she is a_ little_ girl. She's _sixteen;_ she isn't ready!"

Niall cursed under his breath and sat down on the steps, removing his hat and turning it over and over in his hands. He always hated when Adele was like this; When she was stressed, she was unbearable, and it was always near to impossible to put any reason into her. Adele loved her Grandchildren fiercely and would defend them to hell and back, even if it meant risking her life in the process. Sending her young Granddaughter off to the Viking's was something Adele had always been adamantly against, even if it was the only solution to end all rifts and bloodshed between the Viking's and Faeries forever. It was why Niall got Sookie prepared and sent-off with the leader of the Vikings in secret; Had Adele been there, she would have started an argument that Niall didn't want to have to deal with.

When he lifted his head and peered up behind his shoulder, Adele was still standing there; Hands settled on her hips, and that fiery look about her.

"Sit, please," he said gently. His voice was soothing and placating. "I understand your concerns, but sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. Sending Sookie off was the best solution, and the only one we had. In giving them something precious, they will have no choice but to surrender and be on our side."

"I think you're wrong about that," Adele insisted. Still she sat near him on the steps, observing the lands herself. She could feel his eyes on her, but she resisted meeting them. "You had no right to send her off without me knowing first, Niall. She's just a little girl. She hasn't even stepped a foot outside of Faedom before, and now, here you are, sending her off with all these savages!"

"Adele, she did wonderful," Niall said earnestly. He reached over to touch her hand. "She didn't show a hint of fear when they came through here on their horses. She understands her purpose, and she accepted it without any protest. I know she is a daughter to you, but it had to happen sooner or later."

"She's too young," Adele repeated strongly. "No doubt she'll be terrified. She's probably crying for home already."

"Sookie is stronger than she seems. She will do us proud."

"Sookie has always done me proud, whether she's off with the Viking's to end bloodshed or otherwise," she reminded him stiffly. "You should have told me, and not hidden it from me."

"I should have told you I was sending Sookie off today?" Niall eyed her doubtfully. "Adele, you would have started trouble, and you know it."

"But what if they rape her?" Adele wondered aloud with dread. "What if they mistreat her and abuse her?"

Niall saw the pure dread on Adele's face and he almost shuddered at the thought himself.

"Darling, I think you are placing too much stock on the tales you have heard about them," he said slowly, but she could tell he wasn't so certain himself. "When they rode in, they didn't look half as bad as the rumours about them."

"Really?" She glanced at his face quickly and he could see the scepticism etched all over her aged face. "They weren't half as bad?"

He cracked underneath her look. "All right, all right; So they _were_ every bit as terrible as the rumors," he admitted unwillingly. "They wore hardly any clothes but trousers and they hardly speak a single word of English. But I have full confidence that Sookie will be perfectly fine, and that we don't need to worry ourselves too much."

Adele laughed bitterly in disbelief. "You are telling me we don't need to worry, and yet, you also tell me that these men look every bit as savage and brutal as the rumors. Do they really not understand English?"

"They didn't seem to. They have a language of their own. Scandinavian, I believe."

"Sookie doesn't understand Scandinavian and these savages don't understand English," she said slowly, dread filling her to the brink. "The leader Northman did swear peace between our lands, didn't he? He did do that, didn't he?"

Niall didn't say anything in response, but Adele saw him grimace quickly. It threw her in a whirl.

"That was the point, Niall," she said loudly. "They were to swear peace to us! So what did you do; you sent my beloved Granddaughter off to them, without even so much as a declaration of peace?"

"They couldn't even begin to swear anything to us," he admitted in shame. "They don't even speak like us. I don't think they fully grasped what was going on." Adele made a loud noise of fury and disbelief, and he had to work extra hard at calming her. "But the leader responded quite well. He grunted- whatever that means- and accepted Sookie. He carried her over to his horse, set her on it, and off they went. That was all it was, Adele. I'm sure if they didn't intend to honour our bargain, then they wouldn't have taken her with them. They must know what it means, and what they must offer us in return. Surely they can't be complete idiots, right?"

"Niall, offer a pretty, young woman to any man and he'll take her regardless of what is meant to happen. Who knows what they will do to her now? They are probably raping her and hurting her as we speak!"

"Darling, we can't be certain of that," he said, as gently as he could manage. He took her hand and held it tightly in his own, despite her jerky movements to get it free. "I am sure Sookie is fine. If she can't find love with the leader, then she'll find love with his horse. You know how much she loves animals."

Adele wished she could share his confidence. But she still had her doubts, and plenty of them.

"If something happens to her... If she ends up..." Speaking the words out loud were unbearable to her; Her throat closed over, and the words refused to come out. She cleared her throat and continued, in a firm and dangerous voice, "Well, if anything unpleasant happens to Sookie, it'll be on your hands."

"When is anything that happens not ever on my hands?" He asked her, with a small laugh. "I'm King of the Fae; Every consequence, pleasant or unpleasant, is always on my hands. But I am telling you: Sookie will be fine."

"What did the leader look like?" Adele asked curiously. "Was he handsome? Does he seem like the type of man who would treat our Sookie well, and eventually come to love her?"

Niall hesitated for a moment, and then squeezed her hand tightly in his own. "I have no way of knowing any of that, my love," he answered uncertainly. "I don't mean to scare you by saying this, but... Eric Northman, he looked completely... beastly. A hulking, uncivilized man. Obviously these Viking's don't understand the concept of hygiene. Also," Niall hesitated, grimacing. He knew Adele was bound to get even more upset if she heard this. "He looked every bit the harsh and skilled warrior those rumors have depicted of the Viking leader. Let's just hope his outwards appearance proves us wrong for what is hidden on the inside."

* * *

Sookie knew they had left the portal that opened into her realm when a strange sensation of being sucked through the air hit her skin. This was the first time she had ever exited her realm before, and it was the oddest experience imaginable. Abruptly the lands didn't look as appealing to her as they usually did; The air suddenly shifted, hot and murky, and the grass no longer was how it had been in her realm; Fresh, thriving, lusciously green.

Somewhere back in her Faery realm, it had only just became sunrise, and the sun was gleaming and the sky was a clear, cloudless blue. Now it was growing darker, clouds had formed in foreboding shapes, and it appeared as if a thunderstorm was on its way. Sookie had often heard from her Grandfather, Niall, that other realms weren't as inviting or as lovely as the one he considered home, and now she finally thought she could understand why.

Everything was silent, apart from horse hooves on the earth and a few voices of the men, but it was impossible to understand what they were saying. A heavy weight settled on Sookie's heart, one she understood as depression. She would never step back into her homelands ever again, and it never fully effected her until then. She would miss how bright everything in her land was, how everything was sunny and almost never rainy or cloudy. Most of all, she would miss her family; Her Grandpa and Gran, and her older brother Jason, who was probably still unawares to her disappearance and was fooling around with the pretty servants that helped in the Fae Kingdom.

She felt uncomfortable in more ways than one, and it wasn't only just because she was surrounded by strange men who didn't speak in her native tongue. Sookie hadn't ridden on horseback before, and it hadn't taken long for her legs to feel stiff and sore. She turned and looked curiously at all the Viking men trotting along on their horses beside her, in front of her, and far ahead of her. None of them seemed uncomfortable by the long journey in the slightest, but Sookie guessed it was only because they were used to riding on horseback every single hour of the day.

It wasn't only horseback and the aching in her limbs that had her unsettled; It was the look of this new land, in general. It wasn't home. The path they were taking seemed to grow steeper and steeper up a hill, and the old trees that lined their path were wilted and broken. This new land, to her, felt like death and danger rolled into one.

She longed for a break so that she could stretch her legs, only she didn't know how to ask for it in their tongue. All she could do was sit quietly and wait patiently until the ride was over. She didn't realize she was crying for the comforts of home, until she felt wet, hot tears slide down her cheeks. She took one hand off the Viking leaders bare shoulder and wiped her eyes, before returning it, pinching tightly into his skin with her fingertips so she wouldn't lose her bearing off the horse.

A sudden chill swept over her and she leaned into the Viking leader's bare back for warmth. She didn't exactly want to be too close to the man who was to be her husband, but she didn't have any other choice; It was getting colder, darker, and she felt more frightened of her surroundings than any of the men in that moment of time.

Some hours later, Eric Northman called something out to his men and abruptly all the horses stopped in their tracks. Men started dismounting their horses and muttering foreign things under their breaths that she couldn't understand, and she waited obediently until the leader dismounted his horse first before she made the move herself. He swung his legs over the side of his white horse and his soles trudged loudly on the soil as he landed. Turning to her, he did the same as before in grasping her strongly by the waist and settling her down on the soft earth with ease.

"Thank you," she whispered graciously; Her voice low, shy; Her chin dipped towards the ground in a demonstration of subservience.

She stood, waiting for him to respond to her in some form she could understand. She was unsure about what was to happen now, so she waited for his directions.

Only he didn't say or do anything; She could be speaking in tongues for all he knew.

"Do you know my name?" she asked, and then she rolled her eyes. _Of course_ he wouldn't- and _couldn't_- answer. If he didn't speak English, he obviously didn't understand it either. Sookie tried again, bringing a hand to her chest. She tapped her fingers against her collarbone lightly. "Sookie. _My_ name is Sookie, and I'm Princess in the Fae Kingdom. My Grandfather Niall Brigant is King and ruler of the Faeries."

She waited to see if he would actually respond. All he did was stroke his horse briefly behind the ears with his grotty fingers before reaching for the reins and guiding the magnificent horse forward a few paces. She supposed he was handsome enough to be her husband, aside from all the facial hair and dirt.

Sookie felt her temper flare. It was like trying to converse with an overgrown child.

"Sookie," she said again, drumming her fingers along her collarbone as she struggled to keep up with his steps. "My name is Sookie. Can you say my name?"

The Viking moved his mouth, but words didn't form. He showed his frustrations in the way his eyebrows furrowed.

"Sookie," she repeated slowly. "Sookie, Princess of the Fae Kingdom." Tentatively she reached out, brushing her fingers over his warm chest, just below the scar that was marring the skin under his left breast. He felt entirely man; Sparse hairs, sweat, and all. He leaned his face closer to hers as if to listen; His golden blonde hair framing his face, but it was clear he understood little to nothing of what she was saying. "And _you_ are Eric, leader of your Vikings."

Understanding finally flickered across his face. He didn't look so confused anymore.

"Eric," he muttered quietly in a raspy voice. "Eric."

Sookie instantly felt better. "Yes," she giggled in relief. "_You_ are Eric, leader of your men. _I'm_ Sookie."

He was studying her carefully with his eyes, and moved in closer enough that their bodies were almost touching as they resumed walking. Sookie could feel the heat radiating off him, even through the silken, luxurious material of the gown he had given her as a gift.

"Eric," he said again more confidently, and he lifted his hand and pressed his palm into the roundness of one of her breasts firmly, squeezing down. His eyes danced.

No one had ever touched Sookie so straightforwardly like that before, and it startled her. In order to cover her nerves, she laughed quietly and reached for his hand, plucking it away from her breast with her fingers, and pulling it down towards the ground. Quickly she released his hand and clasped her hands together tightly in front of her.

"No," she said desperately. "No, please don't touch me like that. Not with everyone else around."

"No?" He repeated, his face strangely devoid of any expression.

"Do you speak any English?" Sookie asked hopefully. "Do you, or any of your men speak any English?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"English," she said firmly. "Can you _speak_ English?"

"Eric," he said, thumping on his chest loudly with his hand.

Sookie gritted her teeth. "Yes,_ you_ are Eric, yes."

She had never felt so alone before in her entire life, although she was surrounded by a horde of men and beautiful horses.

No one seemed to know what she was saying, the man who was supposed to be her husband especially. She felt disappointed and panicky as that finally sunk in: Her Grandfather expected her to somehow bring the Vikings over to their side, turn them into allies.

How was she meant to do that if they couldn't so much as understand a word she was saying? How was she meant to be with this man, when he couldn't understand her at all, and when she couldn't understand him in return? What scared her the most was what she knew was bound to happen, once they found a place to rest. She was likely expected to have sex with this man, and yet, she didn't even know or fully understand how to do something even as natural as that.

She heard some of the men laughing and talking boisterously from behind them, and terror suddenly took grasp of her again.

Every single thing about these men were alien and unknown to her; From how they spoke, to how she was expected to live with them.

Unwanted tears trickled down her cheeks again as she forced herself into following Eric's lead.

She felt someone touch her shoulder and turned to look nervously. It was that boy, the one that looked roughly her age or so. He had come forward to stand next to her, while he lead his horse, as they walked. He looked more frightening up closer, she realized, despite him being only slightly taller than her. There was nothing terrifying about his face; He was as much a child as she was, and his face had a soft, gentle roundness about it, yet still to her, he was every bit as scary as the Viking leader she was expected to marry.

He smiled at her sympathetically in a way that seemed astonishingly gentle and benign and along with it her fears seemed to subside infinitesimally.

"You are frightened," he said, seeming to take in her silent tears. Sookie hadn't felt such pure relief before, until she heard him speak quietly in the tongue she used. It was obvious English was not his first language; He still had a certain lilt to his spoken words. Only to Sookie, it hardly seemed to matter, so long as at least one person could understand her. "It won't be long now 'till we find suitable ground for the night."

"Thank God you're here," she whispered in a hushed, unsteady voice. "I was scared I was the only one who could speak English. It means a lot to know I have you here along with me."

"I don't speak well, I admit," he said honestly, with an apologetic smile. "But I am glad it offers you comfort."

The young man's horse snorted and Sookie brought her hand up tentatively to run her fingers through the brown of its mane.

"All these horses are beautiful," Sookie murmured appreciatively.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"We don't have horses in my Kingdom," she explained eagerly. "Let alone are we allowed to own them or ride on them, because my Grandfather considers it cruel. But these are beautiful."

The harsh, gruff voice that belonged to Eric broke through their conversation, and Sookie fell abruptly silent, remembering her manners. Again, she couldn't understand what he was saying, but the young man answered back hastily, slipping into his spoken tongue with little effort.

The boy was going to be helpful, though. It meant he could act as translator.

"Eric was asking what you were saying to me," the boy explained readily once their talking had finished. "I told him what you said about the horses."

"Can you tell him who I am?" she asked hopefully. "Unfortunately I can't talk in your tongue."

"He already knows who you are," the boy assured her. "All of us are aware."

"Does he also know that I am a gift to him, as a peace-offering between the Faeries and Vikings?"

The boy looked uncertain and leaned forward slightly to see Eric's face as he repeated the words back to him in Viking. When Eric made a very primitive sounding grunt, Sookie was surprised to find a tight-lipped smile cross over the boy's mouth in amusement. "Yes, Eric is aware of that also."

"And does my kind have his word for peace?"

He answered without that pleasant smile escaping him. "Yes, you have honest word. No more bloodshed, but peace."

A loud eruption of crazed laughter and whoops broke out from the men behind them. Sookie leaned in and asked curiously, "What are they laughing about behind us? What are they talking about?"

"They are making bets," the boy explained, and he shook his head disapprovingly. "They make bets to see how long it will take for Eric to bed you. Some say by the time this night finishes; Others say a Princess won't give it easily."

Sookie felt herself flush with heat.

Eric, at her side, shouted something - something sounding very much like a taunt- and abruptly even more raucous laughter escaped from his men. Her stomach bunched into tight and tense little knots.

"What did he just tell them?"

"He tells them to give it no more than an hour and then you will be spreading your legs for him."

She turned to look at Eric, trying to assess his expression to see if that were honestly true. She caught him smiling broadly for the first time, and he no longer looked like a beastly animal or a fearsome, skilled warrior. His smile made him look younger and less grim, and his smile flashed unexpectedly white and straight teeth. He looked just exactly like a normal man; A normal man indulging in perverted thoughts, with his group of equally as perverted men.

* * *

I'm sorry if this one was terrible, silly, etc. The young man talking to her in English is none other than Godric himself. There is no vampires in this one, just all human mostly. Thank you guys so much for being so nice :-) Let me know your thoughts, I would love to know them! Hugs to you all!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you all so much for your reviews, and for being so nice and supportive.**_

_**A big, big thank you to you all :D I studied a bit so that helped me very much in understanding how times were back in those days, for Vikings. And seeing Eric's flashbacks in his Viking human days, he seemed like the womanizer, so that's how he'll be at first. But he'll learn to be a lot nicer and faithful.**_

_**It means a lot to me to get such a lovely and encouraging response for you all, and I hope you enjoy this one :-) When Godric and Eric are talking, the Italics are there to mean they are talking in their language that Sookie doesn't know. Hope it isn't terrible.**_

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_**Chapter Three**_

Knowing that the men had made bets about the leader bedding her didn't put Sookie at ease.

She didn't exactly want the man to have her, at least not yet; and she was determined to do everything within her power to make him not to, if she could help it. The closest she had even come to it, was when she was at year thirteen of age, where one of her closest friends, Ben Warlow, laid a quick, sloppy kiss on her lips in her Kingdom. When duties that were expected of them had finished, they had ran off to play in the gardens like they always enjoyed together. Ben was chasing her around and she was running, hoping for him not to catch her. Everything had been playful at first, until he had cornered her by a tree, and gave her a quick, sudden kiss that had turned her stomach in shock.

He was one of her dearest friends, and she hadn't felt anything when it happened. When her Grandfather had found out, he had told the pair very sternly not to play together ever again and he made Sookie stay with him most of the time during the day, overlooking his work as ruler of the Fae Kingdom. She hardly saw Ben again after that one time and assumed it was because her Grandfather was purposefully keeping the boy extra busy.

It was the one and only kiss she had experienced from a boy.

She was going to have a hard time getting used to living with the Vikings. In her Kingdom, she hardly had to travel more than up a sloping staircase to reach her bedroom. Her Grandfather didn't believe in animals being captured and used by the people; They were used sparingly and were treated like the people along the Kingdom with respect. To treat them otherwise, would have been considered slavery. There was no such things as pets in her Kingdom, and horses were free to move around the sparse, green land uninterrupted by people.

Her Grandfather and most of the Faeries believed in peace, but it was hard when there were different people invading into their realm every month or so. Most of the Fairies preferred dancing and being merry, over having to be led off into a battle. But when it was necessary to protect and keep their lands, they fought hard and brutally and used their Faery magic sparingly.

Weapons in her Kingdom were mostly used as decorations on the walls, not for actual warfare unless it was seriously required. Seeing all these men now with weapons of axes and swords at hand came as a real shock to her, but Sookie ultimately understood all about survival. They had a different way of not only speaking, but living compared to her kind, and if Sookie wanted to survive she would have to learn how to adapt to their ways, and quickly.

"Do you always have these horses with you?" she asked the boy curiously, when an uncomfortable silence grew on them. If she had this kind boy here with her, she was keen to learn about their way of living immediately.

"We had to rent them," the boy answered. "Usually we don't mind travelling on our feet, but it was a long way into your realm. It would have taken us over a weeks long walk on foot to reach you; Time we didn't have. We set off to your realm three days ago. It's a long journey to where you live."

"It took you three days?" Sookie was shocked that they would have even gone to all the trouble. "Did you have to camp out here for three nights?"

"Two nights," he corrected her quietly. "We are finding somewhere now to rest for the evening, 'til morning. Then we'll continue back home on horse again."

"Weren't you all cold?" she asked anxiously. Sookie was used to spending her nights comfortable and safe in her bed, with a hearth just meters away from her bed and a fire burning kindling to keep warm. "Weren't you scared about sleeping out here? What if wild animals try attacking?"

"Then we attack them back," he said simply, gesturing towards his axe that was shining in the moonlight. "In all two nights we had found shelter and slept under the stars, we didn't have to face any wild animals. With a fire going, they tend to stay out of our way. You'll be safe here. You don't need to be frightened, and if they do intend to attack us, we'll protect you."

Sookie wasn't so sure about that; She had never slept on ground before, where it seemed to her so risky, especially in these parts of the lands, where there would be wild animals at every corner. She always had the hard stone walls of her Kingdom and its protective magic to protect her. It was another thing she was going to have to get used to.

When they had obviously found a good resting place for the night to their liking, the men put all their horses together and some went off to find some branches to light a fire. She was pleased that the young boy stayed beside her and didn't leave. It was growing darker and Sookie heard wolves howling forebodingly in the distance somewhere not too far from them.

"Where is it that we are heading to?" she asked quietly, mainly to distract herself from what was going on.

"Eric has a home," the boy answered. "A modest little Öland farm where he was raised."

"Is it a lot different there compared to where I grew up, in my Grandpa's Kingdom?"

The boy seemed to hesitate for a moment, as he looked past her at something in the trees. His dark eyes seemed to glow at her. "I know not nearly enough of how you live to say," he said gently. "But hopefully, you will find that our ways of living aren't so different to yours after all. Hopefully, you will find comfort in that."

When the men at last safely returned through the thick bushes, some were carrying sticks in their arms, while some were carrying what looked like dead squirrels in their hands. When Eric entered through the bushes, she saw that he had something big and heavy slung over his shoulder, and she gasped. It was a big black thing with antlers and she was surprised by how much strength he had. Then he threw the animal on the ground, brought out a knife, and started sawing the skin and hairs off.

Food and fruits in her Kingdom hadn't been hard to come across; There was plenty of it in bundles. This was another thing she was going to have to get used to. Minutes later they had a nice fire going, and wild animal meat was being cooked. The smell of it cooking filled her nostrils and her mouth was watering as she sat by the boy on the short grass and hard land, watching all the men anxiously.

Eric sat on the other side of the roaring fire, listening to his men intently as they talked in their language. He had his sword out and he looked to be polishing it, or admiring it; Whatever it was, Sookie couldn't be completely sure. She noticed he kept silent and didn't talk to any of the other men, but he would smile slyly at something they were saying, as if amused. She really wished she could understand them. She caught him looking her way now and then, but she made sure she kept her eyes on the fire instead.

"I'll be back," the boy said, excusing himself from her presence.

She watched apprehensively as he walked around the fire to kneel at Eric's side, and she saw him muttering something softly in his ear. When Eric looked annoyed at something the boy was telling him, Sookie saw their eyes turn to her and quickly she lowered her own back to the skinned meat cooking and browning away.

_"What do you think of her?"_ Godric asked Eric at his ear.

Eric turned his eyes on the girl, and he really looked at her. She was pretty, he supposed, especially in the white dress. But he had seen many prettier girls back at home, there were servants that could have rivalled her beauty. She seemed cautious and shy of him and it was obvious she took him for nothing more than an unintelligent brute.

_"I think nothing,"_ he muttered under his breath. _"I feel nothing. I'm too pissed off."_

_"Why? Because she has foiled your plans of bedding every woman you can?"_ Godric teased, and when Eric shot him a hard look of warning over his shoulder, he found the young boy grinning broadly. _"You have to agree that it was a very wise move played on the Faery King's part. He must have truly wanted peace if he gave his precious Princess away to a complete uncouth bastard like you."_

Eric found no offense in his young friend's words, but amusement. He laughed along with him, knowing fair well how much of a bastard he was, and feeling no shame in it. He enjoyed being a bastard.

_"Do you think you'll have her tonight?"_ Godric asked, his mood abruptly changing into seriousness.

Eric sighed heavily and instantly he felt troubled. He looked at the girl through the bright flames, and saw how tense and unsettled she was of her surroundings. Would he be having her tonight? By the looks of her, apparently not. Which was a shame, because he could have used a nice, naked warm body to lie next to, particularly of the female kind.

"_Godric, look at me,"_ he said, shaking his hair out of his face. _"One kiss and I'll be between her legs_ _in no time. Wherever I go, women always want me to fuck them."_

_"Not so in this case," _Godric said. _"She's not like us._ _Where she come from, its different from how we are._ _You should consider yourself lucky you have such a pretty, kind little wife to have. Make sure you treat her well_._"_

"_You remind me of father,"_ Eric said sarcastically. _"Do you remember what I told you, of the last thing my father wanted for me, back at home, Godric?"_

"_Yes. To be betrothed."_

_"Do you remember what I told him?"_

Godric knew well what he had told him. He smiled softly. _"Soon."_

"_Aye, soon,"_ Eric agreed, pleased that he had remembered. He made himself smile at Godric, but it wasn't a sincere one. _"Soon is not today, brother. Nor is it tomorrow."_

_"But soon is now, sitting over by the fire."_

Eric returned his gaze to the girl, but said nothing in response.

The truth was, he was annoyed. The girl was going to be nothing more but a burden, on both him and his men.

He was perfectly content with how his life was before; Where he could do whatever he pleased, see whomever he pleased, and live a bachelors life, in fooling around with servants and other women that had caught his eye. Before his parent's deaths, the very last thing they wanted of him was for him to comport himself into the ways befitting of a King, and marry. He supposed if his deceased warrior King father, Ulfrik, was up there now, in Valhalla, looking down upon him from where he sat in his golden throne with his crown atop his head, he would have been happy and laughing his ass off over a few indulgent mugs of mead at how fate had turned out. His beloved mother Astrid, too.

"_When are you going to tell her you speak English?"_ Godric asked in a low voice. Instantly Eric felt better. He felt cheerful, and a laugh got caught in his throat.

_"Probably never,"_ he said stiffly, returning his gaze back to his sword. _"I like pretending to act confused and seeing the look on her face."_

_"You are just as bad as we were when we were children," _Godric said disapprovingly._ "Maybe even more so now. I bet your mother is looking down on you, calling you a heathen."_

Eric laughed. He could envision that perfectly himself. Even as a younger boy, he had a penchant for mischief. Many times his mother would shout at him, calling him a little naughty heathen, but he could tell she meant the name in admiration. When he was a child, he would often deliberately forget his duties and go run out to the North Sea instead. He would spend hours on the sand, playing like a young boy does; building high towers and only returning when it was past dark. He would have always gotten into trouble by his father, but his mother didn't mind his naughty, insolent ways so much. If anything, it only made her adore him even more.

_"I like being bad,"_ Eric said, with a grin.

"_Obviously,"_ Godric sighed, not at all impressed. He rose to his feet and patted his older friend on the shoulder companionably, before returning to the girl.

Eric watched the pair with mirth in his eyes. Then when he saw the wild boar he had slaughtered was ready for feasting on, he called out to his men and the meal began.

He particularly enjoyed watching Sookie, Princess of the Faeries, struggling with her meat. She didn't have a knife on her to tear the meat apart like every one of his men and himself did, and her face, her lips and around her mouth especially, got all dirty and slick from the natural oils in the meat. His men found it just as enthralling as he did, and they didn't bother hiding it.

"_She's not much of a Princess anymore, is she?"_ One of his men, Igor, laughed jovially._ "We have corrupted her already, and Eric hasn't even so much as touched her yet. You still want her, Eric, with all that meat juice on her face?"_

_"Leave her alone," _he commanded, with a slow smile.

"_I wouldn't mind having her,"_ Another one of his men said. _"Truth be told, I could use a woman's body since all this travelling we've done lately. Imagine her breasts as they pressed against you while you were near her. I bet they'd warm you up real fast, wouldn't they?"_

Something broke inside of Eric then at the man's words. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it was an uncomfortable and entirely unpleasant feeling. Quickly, he lost his appetite and flung the leftovers of his gristly meat into the fire.

_"Don't think you're having her,"_ he heard himself telling the man without his control sternly. _"She was gifted to me, and she'll only be mine alone." _Furiously, he got to his feet and walked away across the fire towards the girl, leaving Igor and the other men staring after him in alarm.

"_What was all that about?" _Igor asked nervously. _"Do you think he's gone soft on her already? Usually he never goes soft on them."_

_"I just think he wants to fuck her, that's all,"_ one of the other men remarked unconcernedly, with a massive shrug.

Sookie was lost on what to do. Her hands, her face, _everywhere_, felt disgusting from the rich juices of the meat.

She was tempted to wipe her hands on her white gown, but then realized it would have only stained it. She went to look over at her husband-to-be, finding him gone. But then he made himself known to her by stepping closer to where she sat in the fire-light, and the determined expression on his face and glistening away in his eyes disturbed her. Was this the part where she was expected to go off with him and consummate their union, now that she had eaten? She stared up at him, uncertain. She didn't know what she was supposed to do, so she looked the boy's way for help. He was too preoccupied with eating his food and tearing it apart into thin slabs with his knife to give her any assistance.

Being cautious not to touch her gown with her greasy hands, she stood. He took her hand and pulled her along with him towards a tree that kept them hidden from all of his men, and the panic builded up inside of her again. He was luring her away, probably for some privacy so he could have her.

He didn't say a word, not in his language or otherwise, as he guided her up against the hard bark of the tree that was resting behind her. He put his large hands on either side of her, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress, and Sookie closed her eyes tightly, praying it to be over as quickly and painlessly as possible.

She felt him run his calloused knuckles down the side of her cheek and she opened her eyes to look up at him.

She couldn't make much of his expression out in the dark of the night, but the moon made his skin appear silvery and his long hair a pale, light grey. Sookie reached her hand out and brushed the matted tendrils of hair out of his forehead with her fingers and he leaned into her palm, clearly revelling in her timid touch. She brought her hand slowly down to his warm cheek and over the sparse, short hairs that had grown over it. Then with bright alertness shimmering his eyes he brought his own hand up again and slowly ran his fingers around her chin, over the line of her lips. She really wished it was easier to communicate with him.

"I... I wish I knew how to speak to you," she said uneasily. "It would make this so much easier. I wish I could learn about you, but then I... can't."

"Sookie," he breathed deeply, and she was shocked by how easily and naturally the name seemed to come from him.

Her heart swelled with relief. "Oh, yes," she said. "I'm Sookie." He must be a fast learner, she thought. It definitely made it easier.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this one? :D Of course, it's a bit silly, but I hope you won't mind. Sookie will put her powers to good use next chapter and will give Eric a shock :P**

**Thank you all so much, I loved reading your reviews and am so grateful for every alert. It means **


	4. Chapter 4

**Once again, I own nothing to do with True Blood or the characters. I am just messing with them :-)**

**I want to thank you all so much, for every alert received, and every review. I do hope you enjoy this one, and that it explains a few things :D**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"Eric," he said slowly, and he took one of her hands in his, holding it over the left side of his chest, where his heart would have beaten underneath. He left her hand there where it was and moved his down, touching her stomach through her white gown with eagerly splayed fingertips. His touching there seemed to make her queasy."And you are Sookie, Princess."

The words were nothing more but a deep rumble through his chest that reverberated right through her fingers. Sookie felt herself smiling slightly. "Yes," she breathed, and she laughed quietly. "Yes, I'm Sookie, Princess of the Faeries, and you are Eric. You're a real fast learner."

At least he understood certain things she was trying to say, namely introductions. It was even better than she had imagined.

Eric leaned into her and pressed his lips to hers. Sookie had never entirely experienced what it was like to be kissed passionately by a man; No less with a man who had whiskers. He felt scratchy, like his kisses could buff her skin into redness, but with the movements of his lips, it was sensual, soft, and tender. She could feel the warmth of his breath and as he moved in closer, sliding his chest up against her, she began to feel a little breathy. His large hands roamed around her shoulders, touching her in places she hadn't been touched before and seemingly without her control, Sookie's back arched.

She got a glimpse or two of what he was thinking courtesy of his touch, and he let out a gruff moan into her mouth.

Sookie wasn't sure what she was supposed to do; She knew she was supposed to be this man's wife- a man she had no idea about- but an uncomfortable gnawing feeling in her belly told her the time wasn't right now to give herself completely away to him.

Although she stood very still and unsure, her weight supported by the rough bark of the tree behind her, with his lips on hers she felt something she hadn't felt before.

Desire.

Sookie moved her lips a little, trying to get used to it and overcome the depths of her inexperience.

When his lips left hers and she felt him touch her hair with his hand, she was panting hard for such a small kiss. She felt hot and cold, all at once. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her knees felt weak. It was unlike anything she had felt before.

But those doubtful feelings still came to her. She had a duty, and that was to make sure the Vikings were on Kingdom's side. She had to make sure there was a treaty formed with the Vikings, so that her people would never get hurt again. Her heart told her this wasn't the way to go, and she listened to it. She couldn't give herself away to him, not wholly, until everything was done.

He was still very much a confusing stranger to her, after all.

She could see Eric's eyes, bright and eager, as he tried to start kissing her all over again when he lowered his head.

"Wait," she cried out weakly, pulling back from him.

He whispered an inaudible something and bowed his head, kissing around her neck and running his calloused hands up and down her arms.

Another flash of his thoughts tore right before her very eyes, and she knew his intentions.

He wanted to have her _now_, his thoughts were slow and foggy with desire, and his hands were restless. She knew his body was ready for it when he pressed up against her, and she felt his hardness straining through his trousers. She brought her hands slowly to his head, curling her fingers through the strands of his long hair, pushing him back. He was far too busy licking, kissing, and sucking every inch of her collarbone for it to fully settle in, so she tried once more.

Once he finally understood, he pulled his head back to gaze down at her questioningly.

"No," she said strongly, and shook her head to give it more impact. "I don't know what practices you have in your world, but I _won't_ fully give myself over to you until we are wed, like my Grandfather wanted."

Eric couldn't help it; Laughter bubbled in his throat over the girl's absurd words, yet, when he studied her carefully, he saw nothing but truth on her features. She truly meant what she was saying. And how ridiculous was that?

Many women, at home, in his village, would have died to be in her position. Some women- mostly infatuated over his status as near-King- had thrown themselves at him and fawned over him for his time and attention, no matter how pathetic it was.

He scrutinized this Faery girl more carefully in the dark as she remained where she was, silent as a mouse, leaning by that tree; He knew she regarded him and his men as nothing more than uneducated savages.

If he had to be honest himself, he saw her kind as nothing more than strange, abnormal men and women whose closest ancestors were probably aliens. Come to think of it, looking at this girl, he saw nothing manmade about her. She had a faint peculiar glow to her skin that made her almost ethereal and the hair that was cascading around her face and back was pale as anything. The tips of her delicate ears had a slight point to them and her eyes were wide and doe-like. She was beautiful in a way he wasn't used to, an entirely unique beauty.

Yet he was expected to enter a union with this girl?

He sure felt ready to take her, if the aching in his loins was anything to go by, yet she was almost fiercely resistant. Eric might have been many things; a bastard, a naughty little heathen- by his mother's words- and was unashamed of it... but taking a girl against her will wasn't one of those things.

The howling of wolves suddenly broke out into the night and he had difficulty schooling his face of any amusement as the girl reeled with fear. His expression did not go unnoticed to Sookie, who felt tears burn in her eyes as she heard his soft gulp of laughter. He evidently thought her nothing more but an easily frightened girl, a damsel in distress, with no backbone.

"Don't you dare laugh at me," she warned him stiffly. "I'm not a fan of being laughed at!"

Wolves started again somewhere closer to them, and Sookie felt the Viking stiffen. She kept her eyes on him, waiting to hear his laughter again all at her expense, only it never came. Instead his face turned rather sombre quickly and he turned to look around them, his hand resting idly on the shank of his sword. She thought he looked in defensive mode, as if he was preparing himself for any harm that might have come their way; His feet a width apart and his shoulders squared, but as Sookie used her ears shrewdly to judge their surroundings, she couldn't hear anything as far as she was concerned.

But the crying of wild wolves had clearly set him off, and she wasn't sure why.

The boy she had talked to had made it perfectly obvious to her that they did not fear any wild creatures of the night, and that they could have easily defended themselves from an attack. But was he doubting that?

Without any control on it, Sookie blindly reached out to find one of his hands. The instance her fingers touched his knuckles, a great flash happened before her very own eyes.

* * *

She wasn't the prettiest servant in the house-hold, but Eric thought she was good-enough. It didn't really matter to him what his conquests looked like, so long as they were women, with generously sized breasts and luscious long hair. He needed something to take his mind off the argument he had just had with his father over his becoming a married man; To his father, a man was only worthy of ruling men when he was married and had a wife and children to care for.

He was close to getting the woman naked, and he had her pushed up against the wall. He pushed his hand down between her long legs, and the moans she gave off, low in her throat, was like a beautiful song to him.

He was just feeling her wetness with his fingers, when he heard an alarming sound. He heard growls, and a cry that sounded like his father.

He sprang away from the servant and Eric sped into the room, taking his sword with him.

He stiffened as he inspected his surroundings anxiously. The main room was in an obvious state of distress. A jug of mead that his father, Ulfrik had previously been drinking out of, had been knocked off the table bench, spilling all over the floor. Pots and pans were lying on the ground. Drawing his sword higher into the air, he got into a defensive stance, his feet a length apart as he stepped over the sticky pool of mead gathering on the floor. At first, his King father and Queen mother were nowhere to be found.

But when he looked over into the direction where the little fire was burning, he discovered his father lying long ways on the ground near it. He appeared almost to be resting; Eric could hear him wheezing quietly, and he had a hand squeezing his throat tightly.

Ulfrik's long hair was splayed out around his head and his crown gone from its rightful place atop his head.

As Eric gauged his surroundings again and considered it finally safe, he lowered his sword and stepped closer towards his father's body. He crouched down over him, resting his sword by his fathers body. Eric looked his father over carefully and his eyes widened. He realized he was mistaken; His father was not resting, nor was he in any fine state. The hand that was pinching his throat tightly was covered in thick, deep red blood, and Eric finally realized his father was attempting to staunch a deep wound.

"_Father,"_ he whispered softly, shaking his head in sheer confusion. Hardly minutes ago, they had argued. Now here his Viking warrior father was, lying on the floor in an odd position, with a hand wrapped tightly over his throat, his fingers coated in his own slick blood. "_Father, what happened?"_

At first, he feared his father had already passed. His eyes were clenched tightly closed, tears were streaming down the lines of his face from the pain, and he was having difficulty breathing. But when Ulfrik slowly opened his eyes and they focused on his sons face bleakly, Eric sighed deeply with relief. His father was not dead yet, but his time was possibly fast approaching.

A tired smile came across his father's lips. He opened his mouth, striving to talk, but all Eric heard was a gurgled, choking sound erupting from him. He looked at his father closer and saw that the hand that was lying on the floor limply had bite marks on it, potentially from some type of animal. A wild dog, maybe. Hesitantly, he reached out and took the hand, holding it tightly between his fingers. His father's skin felt dry, and clammy. Weak. A heavy feeling weighed down on Eric's heart- he felt as if someone had reached deepest inside of him to take their hand to his heart, clenching it with their fist agonizingly- and he felt his eyes burn as he bent down to lay a few kisses around his father's battered knuckles.

_"Talk to me, father,"_ he begged, breathing heavily into his father's hand. _"Please, talk to me. What has happened to you? How did you get like this?"_

_"Son," _his father sighed wearily._ "They encroached on our territory. They brought them in here, a pack of them. I could not hold them back, even with my sword at my side. One lunged, bit at me. I striked the bitch, again and again, but she did not falter. Some gathered around your mother and did it to her, too." _His father's glance strayed towards the ceiling. Eric could tell he was drifting. _"I think this is farewell at last, my son. I cannot conquer this one."_

_"No," _Eric said firmly, and he tightened his clasp on his father's hand, hoping to bring him out of it. He wiped stray hairs out of his fathers eyes and bent down low to bestow a kiss on his father's forehead._ "You can't leave me, father. Not yet. Please, stay with me." _He leaned back on his knees to look down at him.

Ulfrik gave a slow, empty smile. Blood was staining his teeth.

_"Valhalla calls to me, my lad," _he said slowly, peacefully._ "The feast is ready. Men await me, with tables and tables of food and drink. Your mother... She beckons me to join her. I must go. This is farewell."_

His father was drifting more and more. Eric let go of his hand, clasped his hands over his father's face desperately, and gave him a little shake.

_"But who did this to you? Tell me! Let me understand, father!"_

_"Wolves." _His father closed his eyes wearily. He did not open them again._ "They... they set them on us."_

_"But who? Who did, father?"_

_"They took my... my crown. _Your_ crown."_

Eric couldn't give a mares ass about the crown. What he wanted, most of all, was for his father to be alive and well again. _"Who did? Who set wolves on us? Who, father? The Faeries?"_

Ulfrik did not speak again. He remained still, a small smile on his face.

He was gone. Ulfrik; chieftain, King of the Vikings of the North, was gone. Ulfrik Northman, rumored the unconquerable, was now conquered.

Grief settled in and took home on Eric's heart. For a long time, he sat, his head bowed and resting against his father's forehead, weeping in despair. Slowly his father's dying words came back to him. Someone had set wolves on them. They had lured them into the Kingdom to murder his father, his mother. Possibly even Eric himself. But they had failed; They may have succeeded in bringing down his father and mother, but Eric was still alive. And if he was still alive, he could make sure these murderers paid. A sudden fire settled in Eric's gut, overpowering his grief. The fire seemed to spread throughout him and, along with it, he had an idea. He knew what had to be done.

He would go after those who set the wolves on his family. And he would make them pay a long, arduously painful death. He would slice off fingers and toes, and then he would cut off tongues. He would make them suffer as long as possible. The idea seemed the best one he had ever had, and the possibility of succeeding in his vengeance was fulfilling, addictive.

Rising to his feet, he wiped his eyes quickly before walking around the room to find his mother. She had died a less merciful death. Her tiara was still on her forehead, the jewels glinting at him from where he stood over her. But when the wolves had attacked her, they had done it brutally and viciously. Her dress was torn apart at the side and they had managed to feast on the warm, soft flesh of her hip. Blood was smeared all over her dress. They had let her bleed-out. But most sad of all, was how she lay there; Her eyes open, staring vacantly upon him where he stood, unseeing and wet.

He tightened his hands into fists as he forced himself to stare long and hard at her corpse.

His decision was made, and there was no way in hell of ever going back. He would gather an army, and they would set off to destroy those who had murdered his parents by setting wild wolves onto them. In his mind, he had a faint idea that it was the Faeries that were behind this, although he could not be entirely sure. He had heard his father speak of them, of how they argued and failed to see his father's side. Taking one last look at his mother, he turned and strode over to collect his sword off the floor. Then with determination he went, to find men who would be willing to go off with him and potentially risk their lives all in the name of retaliation.

Eric _would_ have his revenge on the Faeries for setting wolves onto his family.

He would take his crown back, what was rightfully his from the beginning.

And the Faeries _would_ pay. He _would_ have his vengeance.

* * *

With a great crash, Sookie was brought back into the now, into the present.

And, in the present, a tall giant of a man was standing over her, while tearing his hand out of her grasp. His look at her was unpleasant and harsh, and immediately Sookie knew that he knew what she had done, what she had seen; And apparently it wasn't something he had wanted her to know.

She clamped her hands in front of her stomach, feeling ashamed with herself.

It was a habit she had only ever known; In using her gift of telepathy to gain proper insight into what lurks in a person's deepest, darkest part of their soul.

At least now she knew his motivations into trekking into her lands, starting a war with her Grandfather that had lasted almost ever since she was a little girl of ten, and slaughtering some of her kin.

But that didn't mean he was right, or that what he did was justified. She couldn't deny what she had just seen was tragic, with what had happened to his family, but... he had gone about it in the completely wrong way.

He was seeking vengeance on the wrong people.

"I'm sorry for what I just did and if it offended you," she said quietly. She fought hard against the tremor in her voice. "But everything you've done has been wrong."

Eric did not say a word to her, but she caught it quite plainly when he drew his long sword and held it at his side. She swallowed dryly as her eyes focused on the long piece of steel. It seemed to grin at her in the dark menacingly as it reflected off the moonlight. He might have had a sharp sword to pierce and murder her with, but Sookie had a defence equally as effective as his own method. Sucking in a deep breath and holding her hands out in front of her, each fingertip touching, she channelled all her energy inwards- all her fury, her fears- until she felt her fingers grow warm.

Eric took a few startled steps backwards away from her and the loud, nervous intake of breath he made caused her to almost smile triumphantly.

"Don't think of hurting me," she warned him. Her voice trembled; Something she wasn't too proud of. "You may have your sword and you may have won heaps of battles, but I have my light as well."

He chuckled humorlessly.

She wasn't entirely sure if he understood what she was saying, but she hoped with all her might she wouldn't have to be forced into using her light against him. She had seen what had happened, once or twice, if a Faeries light crashed into a human being. It would send them flying meters high into the air, and though she knew and felt hardly nothing so far of the Viking standing before her, causing him unnecessary harm was the very last thing she wanted to do. Perhaps it was a Faery thing, but she hated confrontation and violence with a passion.

"My family never set wolves on yours," she continued, stepping forward a few paces, her hands still out in front of her and her light beaming. She noticed him stiffen defensively as he rose the thin blade of his sword level to her head, her neck. "Despite what you might think, my family nor my people believe in using wolves or any other animals as our slaves and we don't live like that. If you're searching for the people that did this and are trying to make them pay, then you've got the wrong ones."

Her hands began trembling and she could feel her light dying to be released.

"You started a war on the wrong people."

He didn't seem to comprehend the danger he was in, or if he did, he just didn't care. Another step was taken towards her defiantly and to hold in her light was beginning to feel draining on her- mind and body.

"I can hurt you with this and _badly_," she went on, dipping her chin down towards the ball of light forming in her hands. "So trust in me when I say this; It's best you keep away. I don't want to hurt you."

He was standing close enough now that she could feel the cold tip of his blade barely touching her neck.

She stiffened and much to her dismay, a rush of tears prickled in her eyes.

"Please, stop being so foolish and put your weapon down. Killing me or hurting me will just start a war up all over again, and my Grandfather will only just hit it where it hurts even harder if you do."

Finally, an emotion broke through his hard, unidentifiable demeanour. She thought she saw a shimmer of defeat in his eyes. "But you killed my family," he muttered, his voice rasping.

"And you speak English," she said quietly, as the realization suddenly struck her. "Why didn't you tell me the instance you took me with you?"

He snorted. "Because it was funny."

"You've been searching for the people that murdered your family, that took your crown," she continued, ignoring his comment, "But those people aren't my kind, I can promise you. I know it wasn't my people. We never would have wanted a war on our hands, or any casualties."

His sword fell from her neck to her side in resignation, but he didn't stop stalking closer towards her. It occurred to her with some uneasiness that her ball of light was _that close_ to touching his chest. Inches from it. The very last thing she was wanting.

"Liar," he spat out in a sudden rage. "Your kind set wolves on my family. Your kind massacred my entire family. You wanted my father's crown for your own gains."

"But we didn't," she insisted. "And we _don't_ have wolves."

The seriousness in her eyes shook him.

_But he couldn't have been wrong... could he? He couldn't have sent his men off all those years, only to be attacking the wrong people responsible?_

"I have been by my Grandfather's side for years, ever since I can remember," she went on nervously, "And not once did I hear him send out orders to intentionally do anything to you, your family, or your people. It was only when you gathered an Army and sent them off into our lands that you forced his hand into hitting you back."

He had heard enough. He couldn't tell whether there was truth in her words or not, but he was growing tired of listening. It all happened so quickly. In one fluid movement Eric's hand moved up, knocking her light and sending it off, and he had only just dodged out of the way before it smashed into a tree, shaking leaves and branches about roughly.

Then he pounced.

Before Sookie could comprehend what was going on, she was knocked to the ground and he was on top of her, forcing her into the hard earth beneath her. She struggled against him, trying to work light into her fingers again, but she was no match to his superior strength.

"Don't lie," he growled in her ear, "Tell me the truth and then... maybe I won't behead you right now and send your head back to your Grandfather on a stick!"

Sookie fought for breath, feeling tears sting her eyes. She clawed at his forearm, his face, yanked at his straggly hair even, but he seemed to effortlessly ignore her struggles.

"The truth!" he demanded.

"It... it is," she rasped out. With an exasperated sound, he finally moved off of her and Sookie drew in a few deep, calming breaths. "It's the truth-"

"Well, I don't believe you," he cut over her in a shout. "Why should I believe you? Your people have killed my men since..." He trailed off slowly, and Sookie felt him stiffen as it finally sunk into his brain.

"Since you started it by sending your men into our lands," she finished for him weakly. "It was only when you did so that we did something back to you. We would have preferred nothing else but peace, but _you,_ jumping to conclusions, started a war!"

She trembled when she saw him pick up his sword from the ground with a low oath. Only he didn't return the sharpest edge to her neck again. His breathing was ragged, matching hers from the sudden scuffle. But when he looked down at her quickly, she saw something closely resembling embarrassment and regret in his eyes.

"So it wasn't the Faeries," he said slowly, with a heavy sigh.

"No," she said firmly. "It _wasn't_ us."

"Then who? Who would want to have my family killed by wolves and loot my father's crown?"

Sookie gave nothing more than a silent shrug from where she was huddled on the ground. The answer to that wasn't one she knew of herself.

**Thank you** **guys :) I hope you enjoyed this one? Or if not, I'm sorry! Feel free to let me know your thoughts, as I loved them!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I own nothing to do with True Blood.**

**Thank you all so much. Hope you enjoy this one :)**

**Don't worry, Sookie will show she can be "every bit the man". I hope I don't offend anyone by what Eric says about women- I think in that time, they regarded women mostly as ones that stay at home in the village. It isn't my thoughts, as a woman myself lol. And Eric will settle down and redeem himself as a loyal man; He isn't as much as a man-whore as he tries to seem. Thank you guys so much.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

She felt a relief she hadn't ever truly known when he sheathed his sword and held a hand out to her. She accepted his hand and he helped guide her back up onto her feet. Sookie was glad her body didn't hurt anywhere from their little wrestle on the ground. Her gown was no doubt covered in dirt, but it was of little consequence compared to what could have happened if he had actually gone ahead and used his sword on her.

She was pleased that it seemed his initial distrust and disbelief in what she was telling him had evaporated. She could tell he believed her and saw her words as truth- at least she hoped so. But when he stood closer near her, their bodies almost touching and him looming over her, it felt a threatening gesture. Sookie had to fight the urge to step back to create some distance between them, but instead she stood her ground.

His hot breath washed over her face, and she swallowed thickly, fighting with effort not to let her fears show.

"You swear on not only your own life but also your families lives that you weren't the ones who killed my family?" The mistrust in his low, gruff voice did not escape her. His eyes searched around her face solemnly.

"I swear on _both_ my life and theirs," she vowed vehemently. Of course, she couldn't be completely sure. But she knew and trusted with all her heart that her Grandfather wasn't the type of man who made a habit of setting wolves on another man's family in order to kill them and steal something that belonged to them. It would have gone against everything her Grandfather had taught her over the years. "I know I can help you find those who were responsible, not only to help you but to also clear my families name. I can go with you."

Viking Eric seemed amused by her suggestion. "Go with me, you say?" He shook his head, and something about him seemed faintly mocking. "You think you can help me find who was responsible for killing my family? You, sweetling, when you are just a woman?"

She held her chin up, defiant. "I know I can," she said confidently. "Besides I hardly see why my gender has anything to do with my capabilities?"

"You are a woman, a girl, and that means everything," he said dryly. "You would just be a burden for me and for my men if you come with us. I plan to take you back to my village, in Öland, where you will stay until I return from slicing the heads off those murderers who slaughtered my family. Where we plan to go and what we intend to do isn't the right place for a woman to join us."

Sookie's hands balled up into tight fists. She couldn't believe the nerve he had; So she was a girl, almost a woman, at sixteen. She lacked the strength of men and she had no skills in warfare. But did that really matter? Not when she had mastered her skills; Some him and all of his men had never dreamed of her having.

"You're... you're a... a pig," she stuttered.

Rather instead of wounding the man on some deep level, a ghost of a smile simply flitted across his face.

He shrugged, untouched by her insult. "Yes, and proudly," he muttered under his breath. He turned to leave, to enter back to where his men were surrounding the fire, but she caught his arm and wrenched him back with all the strength a sixteen year old girl could muster.

"The fact that I'm a girl has nothing to do with anything," she insisted, feeling hurt. "I know I can help you find those who killed your parents. Besides, you saw what I just did with my hands!"

In a flamboyantly insulting manner, he imitated holding his hands out, as if he was holding a ball of light himself, while Sookie looked on in anger.

"Don't underestimate me and my powers," she exclaimed stiffly. "Let me come with you."

"And what? Make you a burden on myself and my men?"

"I won't be a burden and I'll be of some use," she insisted. "I can be of great value to all of you!"

"Of great value?" He laughed. "Even now, you have only been here less than a night and already, you are a burden."

"I'm not, and if you don't let me go with you, it'll be your biggest mistake."

He considered in silence for a few beats of time. His hair moved in the wind, and his eyes were dark shining circles in the moonlight. "Women don't have a place for what happens in this world. Blood will be spilled and even some of my men's lives may be lost. Including my own, dare I say it." He was speaking through gritted teeth. "You come with us, then they will only regard you as an easy target. Do you really want that for yourself?"

Sookie stared up at him defiantly. "I can take care of my own hide."

"They see a woman along with us then they will go straight for you. You will be considered the easiest one of us to knock down."

Sookie shrugged. "I don't care," she said. "I _know_ I can take care of myself."

"Since you're a woman, some may even want to... get inside you," he went on, but she tried with all her might not to flinch from the truth. "Do you really want to risk getting raped?"

It sounded horrible but she was certain he was only just playing it on thickly to sway her mind. "I'll take that risk then. I have never been afraid of death or danger." Truth was, Sookie was playing it up herself. Death had always been something she had feared, particularly when it came to those she cared about the most. And the idea of having to hurt people, even if in defence for herself, made her blood curdle.

But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing her real fears.

"Well, you should be afraid," he said. "One who doesn't fear death has no hope at all in surviving. One who doesn't fear death is a careless fool."

She supposed he was right. Still, she wouldn't dare give him the satisfaction.

"Do you have some fair idea who might have done it?" she asked quietly.

"Up until now, I thought I did." A muscle in his cheek twitched as he clenched his teeth, and Sookie could feel the rage radiating from every inch of him.

"Yes," she said softly, knowing immediately who and what he was referring to. "You have been under some misapprehension for years in thinking that it was my kind that did it to you, when we didn't. I bet it doesn't feel too good now to know that you waged a war on the wrong people, does it? All my kinfolks lives you have taken... and then us taking lives in return. And for what? All for nothing! All those lives, unnecessary blood spilled... violence."

"I _know_ what I did," he said tersely. She could tell he wasn't very happy with her pointing out what was probably obvious. "There is no need to rub it in my face, woman."

"And there is no need to rub the fact that I am a woman into mine," she countered bitterly. "Why do you say it that way? As if to be a woman is an ailment?"

"I never realized I was."

"Men would be nothing without us," she said, mostly to herself. "If it weren't for us, there would hardly be anyone on this world. Without us, who is going to give you babies?" She remembered a part of what she had just seen in his mind, about that woman he was fooling around with before his parents were murdered. "Who was she? That lady in your thoughts?" she asked, feeling a lot more curious than she would have liked to be. She knew it was really none of her business.

"Her name was Bera," he said with cool nonchalance. "She worked with my father's goats."

"Did you love her?"

"I have never met a woman who I didn't love."

Sookie felt her mouth tighten in anger for some reason. "No, I mean... Did you truly, honestly love her?"

She saw him shrug. "It's all the same to me."

"You didn't truly love her," Sookie surmised under her breath. "She was just another one of the many women to you. You use women for their bodies, like a... a whore."

Eric exploded into laughter at her words. No one had ever called him a whore before. Especially not a woman no less. Something about the fact that she did was wildly entertaining to him. "If I am a whore, then I am one proudly," he said. "I don't see anything wrong in loving a woman's fine, warm body."

"Yet my Grandfather expects me to marry you," she pointed out. She felt upset, now that she had learned what he was truly like. How could she marry someone like that? "I guess there is some truth in the old tales my Grandfather has told me after all."

"What tales?"

"He used to tell me stories before I drifted off to sleep. He used to tell me about your people; how you travel from land to land, using women and stealing things."

She could tell he was insulted by the way he made a noise in protest. "I have heard worse tales about your people. When I was a young boy, my mother would tell me stories of how you people would poach mine and take them back to your realm. Your people would rape them and impregnate them."

"Well, that's not true," she said defensively. Not ever had she known of any of her kin doing something so horrid to anyone.

"Neither is there any truth in the stories you've heard about my people. We are both wrong then."

She felt a lot better then; She couldn't deny. She heard him draw his sword out from the sheath and the sound of scraping steel made her tremble. "Why do you carry that thing around?" she asked apprehensively. "Or do you always carry it with you?"

He appeared almost annoyed that she bothered to even ask. "Of course I carry it with me always," he said, stunned. "I would be a fool not to. I have killed many with this." He lifted his sword higher and it gleamed in the moonlight.

Why he felt it necessary to tell her that, Sookie had no idea. It only just made her feel more uneasy.

"I have taken many lives with this," he went on haughtily. "With this, I never lose. This was the first sword I ever owned. It belonged to my father, and he passed it down to me when I was a mere boy of eight."

"Eight is awfully young," she said in disgust.

"I was a man at eight, or so my father believed," he said proudly. "First man I killed, this blade went straight through him."

_First man he ever killed was probably one of my kin,_ she thought sadly. It was all the more reason not to like that weapon. "Don't tell me such gross things," she said uneasily. "I really don't want to know how many men you've killed, like the beast that you are."

He chuckled quietly and she knew it was because of her uneasiness. "So now I'm not only a whore, but a beast? Is that it?" He hardly sounded offended in the slightest. She thought he was happy enough to wear those names as a badge of honour.

"Yes, you are," she said stoutly. "You're both, and I don't find that very attractive."

"Well, good. I don't want to seem attractive."

"And it shows," she retorted bitterly. "But if I'm going to have to marry you, I would like to at least consider the man I'm marrying valiant and attractive."

"I don't find you attractive either, sweetling," he said stiffly, and it wounded her more than she would have liked. "You are... stranger than most women."

"How so?" she asked, insulted. "What makes me so strange to you?"

"I don't know what it is," he said uncertainly. "But I can tell you are different from other women. The fact that you are a faery is probably half reason why."

"Well, I find you strange as well. You're different from the men in my world, and trust me; I don't mean that particularly in a good way."

"Then why are you still here?" He asked, and he didn't sound very happy anymore. Some of his offense showed through with the words. "Why don't you return back to where you came from?"

Now that was a thought that was very appealing on her. "You know I can't," she said helplessly. "I'm... duty-bound. I have to stay here."

A silence grew on them as Eric led the way through the opening of the trees. Beyond them, she saw all of his men resting and lying by the fire. Some cackled at their return into sight and she knew why; They assumed he had finally had her, and Eric did nothing to discourage it.

It was better that they thought that way, he probably believed.

Sookie didn't realize how much she regretted wearing just her gown, until now. It had grown colder, and the wind that breezed past her made her tremble. She hadn't realized her discomfort had been that noticeable, until the Viking Eric spoke to her again.

"You are shivering," he said, and he disappeared to go to the horses without a word.

She stood around anxiously, aware that his men were eying her speculatively from head to toe. Once he returned to her, he was holding a cloak of furs in his hands and he draped it over her shoulders. There was something about his expression that shocked her; His was gentle, soft, and he took her hair in his hands with great care and pushed it away from the cloak so he could fasten it to her securely with a brooch. The furs were heavy around her shoulders and weighed her down, but the warmth it provided against her skin was almost heavenly. She sighed her thanks and all the men around her started sniggering again.

_"Shut up, all of you,"_ Eric told his men in annoyance. _"My woman never goes cold."_

Sookie couldn't tell what he just told them all, but she noticed with pleasure that everything turned abruptly silent after that. He might have been a whore, but at least he was considerate enough to know when she was cold, she thought contently.

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reading. I get antsy as hell about updating lol, it scares me. I hope this one was okay and that you enjoyed it. All your reviews and alerts are greatly appreciated. Thank you and hugs!**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Firstly, I own nothing to do with True Blood. I'm just a huge, huge fan of Sookie and Eric.**_

_**I want to thank you all so much, and this chapter is basically a filler one. Despite that, I hope you enjoy and I'll be updating in a day or so. This was inspired by a scene in Titanic haha, where Rose "Drinks like a man". Thank you all so much for your lovely support!**_

* * *

_**Chapter Six**_

"What did you just tell them?"

"I told my men that I never let my woman go cold."

"So I'm _your woman_ now?" she asked incredulously. "Just a few minutes ago you were telling me how unattractively strange I am, because of my Fae heritage."

"And you called me not only a whore but a pig," he shot back with mirth. "I should hardly care what anyone thinks or does to you, because of that. But for some reason beyond me, I do."

Whether he wanted her to or not, she followed him around the blazing log-fire and sat beside him, tucking her gown between her knees carefully. Inquisitive eyes of his men seemed to follow her everywhere she went, but she tried not to pay attention to them. Their talking seemed to get louder when she sat by him on the ground near the fire, and although she couldn't understand what they were saying, she felt she had a fair idea what they were talking about among each other. She looked over at the young boy who was sitting by the opposite side of the fire and found him to be rather uncommunicative unlike the other men. He did not seem interested in engaging in the conversations the others were in; He seemed the type perfectly content with sitting quietly and looking around, observing those around him.

"Who is that?" she asked with interest. "He's my age and you let him travel with you and fight like a man regardless."

"_Him_?" Eric turned his eyes on the boy himself, and she saw his entire face light up with fondness. "He is Godric, a brother to me. He's a very good fighter, despite his age and disposition."

"He knows how to speak English as well. How did you both learn to speak it?"

"My father taught me when I was a boy. He thought it was wise that a few among us could speak the language, especially when dealing with your kind and others." Sookie realized belatedly that he was looking at her attentively as he spoke. She felt rather uncomfortable under his keen gaze. "It was much the same for Godric. His father was very strict. Occasionally, he lashed out on him for not completing his duties. By the time we set off, he was eager to join me and free himself of his father's wrath."

Sookie's sympathetic gaze on the boy Godric was briefly interrupted, when she noticed some of the men were passing around a round cup of something to drink. One of the men tilted his head back and gulped some of it down greedily, before passing it to the next man near him. Her mouth dried at the thought of water passing down her throat. She couldn't remember the last time she drank anything.

"You want to try it," Eric added with a wry smile, somehow sensing where her eyes had drifted off to. He lifted his voice, saying something in the tongue he spoke to his men in, and almost immediately the cup was pressed into his hands. He handed the cup to her and Sookie peered inside it carefully.

"What is this?" she asked nervously. "Water?"

The sight of the contents told her otherwise. It was a whitish, yellow liquid inside the cup and when she sniffed at it curiously, it stung and burnt her nostrils.

"See for yourself," he simply said evasively and Sookie discovered that all the men were watching her again.

Some were smiling, like some secret joke was being played on her, but she couldn't tell why. Turning her eyes deliberately to the bright, flickering embers of the fire and ignoring all the attention on her, she raised the cup to her mouth and took a careless sip.

She wanted to appear brave and dutiful, even if that meant adapting to all of their ways, even when it came to food and drink.

She didn't even have to swallow the liquid to taste the burn it left on her tongue, and it dawned on her a moment too late that it wasn't just any mere normal drink. She knew it was impolite to spit it out, especially with all those eyes on her, and wanting to seem ladylike, she forced herself to swallow the liquid down quickly.

The taste was even worse than the smell. It was lethal, and the alcohol seemed to leave a terrible aftertaste on her tongue.

"What was that?" she croaked out, trying not to make a face.

"Mead," Eric said amusedly. She could tell he found her reaction to the beverage very humourous, and it annoyed her.

"It is strong," she gasped out, and she accidentally made a retching noise.

She heard a chorus of laughter break out around the fire and her cheeks burned. They were all laughing at and insulting her, and she could tell. They all probably thought she was some hoity-toity Faery Princess who never drank, nor knew how to handle it. In truth, she hadn't been allowed to drink alcoholic beverages in her Kingdom. But she didn't particularly enjoy being made a mockery of. When she saw that Eric was holding in a laugh himself, it drove her over the edge.

How dare they laugh and make a fool out of her?

"You all think you are so much better than me, don't you?" She spoke over the horde of men chortling at her defensively. "You think because I'm a Faery Princess that I don't know how to fight and defend myself like a man, don't you? That I can't even drink like a man no less? Well, I'll show you all!"

Thinking farewell to her manners, she touched the cup to her lips again and, imitating one of the men she saw before when they drank, she tilted her head back as far as it would comfortably go and proceeded to gulp the entire contents of the cup down boldly. Halfway through, with satisfaction, she noticed all the men fell into a stunned silence around the fire and then the awed noises they quietly made at her. Once she was finally done and every last drop was drained, she let the cup fall from her hands to her lap and licked around her lips smugly. Her eyes felt moist and the earth she was sitting on seemed to sway as she turned her eyes on the men around her, one by one, giving each of them a challenging stony look, and when she finally met Eric's again, she savoured his expression; His mouth was hanging halfway open in sheer shock and his eyes were wide as saucers in amazement.

Happiness swelled inside her and she hadn't felt such self-satisfaction in a long time.

"There you go," she teased. "I may be a girl, but I still know how to handle a drink. I can be every bit the man each one of you are. Try to doubt my capabilities now!"

But the great feeling inside of her didn't seem to last very long. Her ears started ringing and shadows seemed to dance around her. She could hear herself breathing from a separate entity and warmth spread throughout her body, softening her bones into lead. Suddenly it felt too hot with the fur coat on, but her hands wouldn't seem to cooperate with her in unfastening the brooch from around her shoulders.

"Oh," she whimpered quietly, and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

Before she knew it, she lost total control of her body and fell sideways, bumping her head against someone's shoulder. She heard the alarmed voices of men in that odd language they spoke, and someone's arms went around her, guiding her head onto something padded and warm. The last thing she heard and was able to understand, was Eric's voice by her ear: "Courageous but unwise woman," before a gloomy blackness took over her eyelids.

**Hope this wasn't lousy and terrible? I'm sorry. Next update will be longer/more eventful. I love you guys! *hugs***


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews and alerts! You all never fail to shock me, and I'm so grateful! I hope you enjoy this one lol! I haven't written something like what is going to happen at the end of the chapter before, so I apologize if it's terrible!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

There was an uproar of quiet amazement around the fire.

"_She may be a princess, but she sure knows how to drink!"_

_"I have never seen a woman drink like that before, lads!"_

_"Why did she do that? Mead is strong! She's gone and drank herself to sleep! Her head will be pounding like a hammer against rock when she wakes!"_

_"Well, she didn't know that, did she?" _Eric snapped at his men, effectively shutting them up. The girl had fallen straight into him, so he laid her down carefully in his lap; Her long hair strewn out around him. _"Leave her alone. Besides, she's _my_ woman- disrespect her and then you disrespect _me_ in turn! Be more respectful."_

_"Oh, sorry, Eric," _the men muttered ruefully. _"I just don't understand how she's a Faerie?" _One of the men waltzed on stupidly._ "Where are her wings? I thought they were supposed to have wings?"_

_"You fool," _Eric laughed quietly.

_"What?" _The man looked around at his friends for help._ "I thought she was supposed to have wings and special powers?"_

_"She _does_ have powers," _Eric explained._ "I saw them just minutes ago. It was very impressive." _Telling her how impressed he was of her to her face, well... that was another issue altogether.

_"While you were having her?" _One of the men asked blankly.

_"Let's all go to sleep and get some rest," _Eric said. Their ridiculous chatter was grating on his nerves._ "It's been a long day. __I don't know about you all, but _I'm_ tired."_

Ending the foolish gossip around the fire, Eric gently took the girl by her thin shoulders, moved her off his lap, and laid down long ways beside her on the soft, leave-scattered dirt. Whether she realized she had done it or not, she rolled around to face him and snuggled into him, resting her chin near the crease in his neck. She drew her hands up protectively over her chest, knuckles held under her chin.

Eric could feel her warm breaths as they whispered against him at a constant, steady rhythm. Her breath smelled like sweet fruit, he thought. She was kind of heavy resting against him, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was rather... comforting.

The air had grown colder as the night progressed, but with her flush up against him, it offered him some decent warmth. He felt the heat of her body through the thin material of his tunic. He had given her his furs, and although he felt goose-pimples infecting his skin, he couldn't regret his decision in offering her it for her own warmth and comfort instead of his own.

It seemed the decent thing of a man to do; Up there, in Valhalla or wherever his dead father was, Eric thought he would have been pleased by what his son had done for her.

He glanced down at her without her knowing, measuring the length of her lashes. _So she was a pretty, sweet girl,_ he admitted to himself grudgingly. She wasn't half as bad as what he had expected, of a Princess. She was strong one minute, and soft again in the next. He had never met a young woman like her before: Her, who was brave, bold, and determined to show she was more than 'just a girl', with a fiery spirit. He brought his arm around her back, holding her close, while he sat a hand down on the side of her thigh, where it stayed and did not stray.

It was odd; She had made him feel protective of her, in a short amount of time. It was probably because he knew what his men were like. They were good, decent, trustworthy men, with brave hearts and were natural fighters, but... that didn't mean he trusted any single one of them to be alone with her. Well, with the exception of his good young friend Godric, maybe.

He continued glancing down at her face, while she slept, unknowing his eyes were on her. For some damn stupid reason, he felt tempted to kiss her. To feel her soft lips brush against his own again, like before when he had her against that tree. Flushing bright red at the sappy thought, he forced his eyes to close and leaned the rear of his head back against the earth.

He couldn't believe how stupid he had been, all along. He had gathered a group of men and set off to harm those responsible for setting wolves on his parents and annihilating them, and his men had only been too happy to oblige. But he had led them into wrong territory and started a fight with the wrong type of men. It hadn't been the Faeries- he understood that now by the unwavering truth in the girl's doe-like brown eyes and sincerity in her words. He had no idea where to start, as far as making amends to the girl's family and kinsmen.

A mere simple apology didn't seem great enough for all the careless blood he had spilled and the countless lives him and his men had taken of her kind.

Eric had always prided himself on being a smart-thinker, a man who did not act rashly before jumping into decisions, and yet, he had gone and done it, hadn't he?

He fought to be strong but when grief seized his heart painfully in its grasp and he turned his eyes towards the round of the moon instead of the Faery Princess Sookie that was lying on him and felt them burn and dampen with tears, he found it was a battle quickly lost. Tears coursed down his cheeks and stung at his skin. His body shook and convulsed as if he no longer had any control of it, and every breath he drew in came out sounding like a sob.

_"A true man never cries," _his father once told him, when he was a much younger lad, _"A true man is strong enough to hide his emotions. He is never at the mercy of them."_

What did that make him now? Less of a man?

But he had been an idiot. It was a decent enough reason to cry, in his eyes.

Out of nowhere, the girl made a soft mewing noise like a baby kitten into his neck, burying her face deeper into his skin and his wet eyes widened in alarm. If she found out he was crying, it would have been the death of him. Men weren't supposed to cry, especially not in front of women. So he wiped his eyes on the back of his hand quickly, set his jaw, and the tears ceased before she woke and caught him out in the act. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed and started drifting comfortably.

When Sookie woke, she was thrust back into consciousness brutally by a loud, harsh snore in her ear.

Her eyes flitted open, taking in the early morning rays, and she felt something heavy, warm, and hard against her. She lifted her eyes and discovered the Viking Eric was wrapped around her, their limbs tangled and their long hair spread and mixed together. His face was near hers, his cheek was resting against hers, and all she could feel was his stubble prickling her roughly. She looked at his face as it rested close to hers, his mouth slightly parted. He didn't look like that hard, defensive and easily insulted man he had been last night. He looked peaceful, benign, years younger than the age he probably truly was. It took her a moment to realize one of his large, calloused hands was settled on the top of her thigh, almost under the material of her gown intimately, and she startled.

Had he taken her last night without her knowledge?

She had to think really hard.

All she remembered was trying to appear brave in swallowing down greedily all the men's mead in that round, wooden cup. She didn't feel any different; All that was sore was her side from the ground, and the slow thumping sensation in her temples.

Slowly, she pushed away from him and sat up when she realized she was resting her body on his. It took her eyes a while to adjust to the sunlight and she peered around them, finding all his men fast asleep, snoring and grunting in their dreams. The fire they had up the night before had gone down, smoke billowing up to the sky.

She heard the faint snorting of horses and stood slowly. Her head swarmed, but after a moment of blinking heavily, her vision cleared and she set off to where the horses were. She found the group of them; white, brown, black, sitting on the earth. Eric's white horse, seemingly alerted to her presence by the sound of her sandals on the earth, got to its hooves, bowed its head, and pushed one hoof forward into the crumbling earth. She thought it was bowing at her courteously, and she smiled in amazement for the beautiful creäture.

"Yes, hello," she whispered to the white stallion softly. When she stood close enough, the horse pushed its long snout up against her shoulder, nuzzling her. "You're so beautiful, aren't you?" she laughed, staring into one of its large, beady black eyes, before turning away.

She inspected her surroundings, using her ears shrewdly. She could hear the soft rushing of a stream somewhere and, eager for water, she followed the sound, trekking through a thicket of bushes. The land opened up into a long stream and rocky terrain and Sookie found her mouth incredibly dry and parched; probably from all that revolting mead she had indulged in last night. She stepped closer to the stream and crouched, cupping her hands together in front of her. She slurped at the refreshingly cool water, then decided she wouldn't mind having a wash. All the men were fast asleep anyway, so the chances of them catching her out naked was unlikely.

She pulled off her sandals and stripped out of her gown, plunging ankle-first into the water. It was cold, a shiver ran through her spine, and she almost squealed in shock. But when she fell down to her knees and submerged her body completely into the water, the coldness no longer seemed to bother her.

Back where all the men were sleeping, Eric woke with a sudden snort.

He felt suddenly distressed, though he wasn't sure why. Until it occurred to him that the Faerie Princess was nowhere near. She wasn't sleeping with him on the ground; Her arms and legs were no longer wrapped around him. Panic rose inside of Eric as he looked around the burnt-out fire groggily, stretching his limbs, only the girl was nowhere in sight to be seen. His men were still fast asleep, and as far as he could tell, none of them had left the fire. It was just the girl who had disappeared, and unpleasant thoughts filled his mind of her being hurt.

He got to his feet, rolling his stiff shoulders, while using his height to his advantage in scoping out the lands surrounding them. He caught no glimpse of her blinding-white gown through the trees, and he bit down on the tip of his tongue with his front teeth, feeling the panic surge even wilder. He tasted blood in his mouth, he was gnawing on his tongue that hard, but he didn't care. He just wanted to find the girl.

He felt like a man who had lost something valuable to him- she was meant to be _his_, after all- and clenching his fists tightly at his sides, he went to search for her in an urgent stride. Far ahead of him, through a thick-set of trees, he heard water splashing from a nearby stream and someone making a delighted noise that sounded feminine. With a pounding heart, he shouldered through the bushes, stopping dead in his tracks by a trunk at the sight that folded out before him.

His heart dropped in his chest. His hands clenched at his sides began aching, for want of touching and caressing. _His._ All his.

The Princess Sookie was having a joyful time out in the stream nearby them, he discovered.

Her white gown was an insignificant puddle of cloth near some rocks, while she was kneeling in the water, splashing around and beaming brilliantly. His breath hitched in his throat. Her back was to him, and he could see she wasn't wearing anything. Her skin was flawless, luminescent; Her long blonde hair trailing down her back and rippling in the breeze. Then she turned and so sure he was going to be caught, he stepped back, throwing half of his body behind the tree. The side of his jaw scraped against the rough bark painfully, but it was nothing. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her, she was all that mattered, and oh, those small, beautiful round breasts...

He wanted to rub his fingers around the peaks of her hardened nipples, taste her with his tongue, have her tongue curling in his mouth.

It was a funny thing; How seeing someone naked can change your perspective of them entirely. She was a radiating goddess, and he wanted to fall to his knees at her feet. His trousers felt too small, and the hot throbbing of his cock was almost unbearable.

But then, everything was almost instantly ruined, when her eyes suddenly fell on where he was hiding and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Somehow she had learned he was standing there, concealed by the tree, and she squealed and covered her hands over her breasts, sinking low into the water. Unable to find his voice, Eric stumbled back away from the tree, turned away from the horrified look on her face with difficulty, and ran back to his men like a deeply ashamed desperate man.

**Was this terrible? Hope not! **

**Thank you all so, so much despite all the silliness! You're all so amazing and lovely! x **


	8. Chapter 8

_**First, I own nothing to do with True Blood (which is obvious really lol).**_

_**I want to send a big thank you out to you all, for being such an encouraging, supportive bunch. Thank you, it means so much to me! I hope you enjoy this one despite it probably being silly. Thank you, and I hope you are all well and happy! x**_

* * *

_**Chapter Eight**_

Godric was dreaming the same dream he had constantly ever since he could remember.

In it, he was a younger boy, running down to the seaside. He didn't bother removing his clothes as he waded knee-deep into the water. He paused for a moment, to look and see, to make sure he would not be caught out by his father. Then seeing no one was standing by the sand, he walked again, deeper and deeper, until his head went under and the water engulfed him whole. It didn't matter that he couldn't breathe. He did not return, but all he knew was peace. The peace of death and the icy caress of the water, grabbing hold of him and keeping him under forever. So cold, so sweet.

He was startled awake by a hand shaking him on the shoulder roughly. He lifted his eyes and found his dear friend, Eric, looming over him. He was white as a sheet and distressed. The look did not suit his friend well, who in contrast to Godric was a bit mischievous and a lot irresponsible.

"You woke me, brother," Godric said quietly, sitting up with a heart that was pounding. "I was just experiencing the most glorious dream."

"What type of dream?" Eric asked curiously, sitting beside him.

Godric smiled uncertainly, unsure of where to start. Telling Eric would have only made him look like a fool. "It is impossible to describe, but it was beautiful," he simply said wistfully. "All there was... was peace. None of my father's disappointment anymore. Just... simply peace." The troubled, bleak look on his friend's face did not disappear, and Godric could tell he was wanting to tell him something. Something potentially serious. "What is it? Why do you look so upset, my friend? It's unlike you."

Eric rested his forehead on his knees and did not peer up for a long time. It was then Godric grew seriously worried.

"What is it? Tell me. What's wrong?"

"I have been bad, Godric," he said softly, his voice muffled by the cloth of his trousers.

"But you like being bad. You are always saying so yourself." Godric smiled softly, staring at the top of his friend's head. "That is no fresh development to any of us."

"But this is a different bad, Godric." Eric at last raised his head and Godric saw a fresh, wet line of tears cascading down his cheeks. It disturbed him greatly; In all the years he had known Eric, he had only seen his good friend weep once, and that was when he had discovered his parent's had been mauled to death by wolves. "You have to forgive me."

"What reason will I have to give you my forgiveness? You have done nothing."

"I was wrong," Eric croaked out miserably. "Terribly, terribly wrong."

"How so?"

He shook his head violently as more tears spilled down his cheeks. "About the ones responsible for killing my parents. It wasn't the girl's family, like I thought and had you all believe. All that time I had you all thinking we were doing the right thing... that we were a step closer to avenging my parent's. I waged a war on the wrong people, brother. This is why I ask for your forgiveness."

It took a moment for Godric to realize how serious his friend was being. But when Eric stared at Godric silently, his eyes wet with tears and nothing but solemnity in his expression, the gravity of the situation hit Godric with full force. In that moment, Godric wanted to revoke his friendship with the man he had known since his earliest childhood. But with taking an extra moment of rational thought, he could already see his friend was seriously suffering for his mistake. Men were only men, made of flesh and blood, and they often made mistakes. It was only natural.

"You are a man, Eric," Godric said gently. "And all men on this Earth are bound to make mistakes. It is in our nature, and you were addled with grief and anger over your parent's deaths, which would not make any man act rationally and wisely."

"But it was a terrible mistake, an unforgivable one," Eric muttered helplessly. "Tell me what to do, how I can make amends, Godric. To not only the girl's Faery kin, but... to all of you. To all of you, as my men, my brothers. How can I make this right? How can I... make amends for all the lives I have taken, while wrongfully leading you all out there? The blame is all on me, and as your leader, I should never have made such a grave mistake."

"Nothing you do will ever bring back the lives we have taken,"Godric told him. "But there is a way that you can make amends, and make sure your grave error is never made again. You can't ask me for forgiveness, when it isn't mine to give to you."

"Then tell me what I should do, Godric! What should I do? I will do anything to make it right!"

"Eric, you needn't ask me what you should do," Godric said gently. He heard Eric sob again as he buried his face in his knees, and he reached out to pat him gently on the shoulder. "You already know what you should do. You're not a fool."

Setting his shoulders, Eric wiped his face quickly of all tears on the back of his hands. They sat in companionable silence for a while as Eric's mood settled down.

"You must make amends, brother. For all the lives of her kin we have taken. For all the harm we've caused, all the blood."

"Yes, but how so? How am I meant to? You know as well as I do that going back to the Faery Realm when we are not wanted would be idiotic, Godric."

"Yes, I know. Which is why you can start afresh, make amends through the girl. Love and treat her as if she is one of us, as if she carries your name and she is every bit your kin." Eric sniffled loudly at his words and Godric slipped an arm around his shoulder. "And through her, everything will be absolved as much as it can, although never forgotten."

"Love her? But I-" His friend stopped, sucked in a deep breath, and started again quietly. "I saw her just then. I feared she was missing or hurt and... she was in the river. Naked, and she saw me watching her. I was enthralled by her breasts. She looked like Rán the sea goddess, Godric. I don't know how to love."

Godric slapped him on the back. "We all know how to love."

"I have never known what it means." Eric smiled grimly, wiping his eyes on the palms of his hands again. "Bera was the only woman at home I had, and I liked her body. I liked being around her, and the pleasures of being with her. But I don't know if that was love. But I suppose... with the Sookie princess, she has... grown on me. She's more tolerable than I first thought. And I know I don't want anyone hurting her and I hate the thought of her with someone else other than me, but... that is probably just me being the selfish bastard that I am, Godric. I don't know anything about how to love."

"Aye, that's true," Godric said with a smile. "You can be a selfish bastard. Even your mother reckoned so."

"She wants to come with us." Eric sighed heavily. "She thinks she can help me find the ones who actually were guilty of setting wolves on my family and taking my father's crown. I don't believe her, though."

"Why wouldn't you believe her?"

"Because she's just a girl," Eric said, shrugging dismissively. "She's strong and I know that much. She has shown it herself. But she can't come with us. Not really, Godric." Eric peered at his friend for counsel.

"But why can't she? If she is determined to come along with us, then I see no harm."

"I know there has been many women in the village that has shown themselves to be tremendous fighters," Eric said. "But the thought of her out there..." He frowned, and Godric felt the shudder that passed through his friend's body. "For some reason, I just don't like it. The idea of her in danger's way."

"It is truly no mystery why you feel that way about her," Godric said confidently. "You have grown to like her. That is why the thought of her in danger worries you."

"I don't like her," Eric said, a bit too hastily and defensively. When Godric laughed, obviously not taking his words as true, Eric smiled ruefully at his own words. "So I _do_ like her," he admitted stiffly. "I am just not sure why. She has only been here less than a full day and already, she has managed to evoke such strange feelings in me."

"Eric, your feelings are not strange at all, brother."

"Aren't they?" Eric asked doubtfully. "Well, they _feel... _strange to me." The men around them started rising, yawning and stretching loudly, and Eric was hasty to change the conversation. "Anyway, if you think allowing her to fight and prove her strength isn't such a bad way to go, you are in-charge, my friend. You may teach her everything you know, but I want to hear nothing of it, Godric."

"I will teach her as much as I can," Godric promised happily. "It would be no harm done in having her on our side if we are to find the ones who rightfully did this to your family." Just then, the girl appeared through the trees. Her hair was wet, her hands were clenched, and she did not look happy. "What have you done to her?" Godric asked, shocked that a girl could possess so much fury.

"I have done nothing to her, Godric. It's as I just said; I feared she was hurt and stumbled across her naked in the river. Maybe she's not happy that I watched her for a bit, and saw her breasts?"

"Obviously she is not happy that you saw her, Eric. You can tell that quite easily by the look on her face. Did you make amends and apologize for it when she discovered you were there?"

"No, I had no time for it," Eric said, holding in a laugh. "I just ran and hoped she would forget all about it. I didn't know I had anything to be sorry for."

Clearly Eric did have something to be sorry for, and Godric saw it plainly himself.

It was written in the ways her hands were clenched tightly into fists at her sides. The way in which she began to storm over towards them where they sat, the way the early morning light that casted on her face showed her indignant and determined expression. And, most definitely, it was shown in the way with once she finally reached them and Eric rose to his feet awkwardly, how one of her hands seemed to act out of its own accord in springing out and slapping Eric sharply across the face. His friend stepped back in pure shock and pressed his palm into his cheek.

Godric felt the slap himself and his own cheek bristled.

"How _dare_ you, you swine!"

"What was that for?"

"You know what for! I _saw_ you watching me!"

"I don't know what you are talking about, sweetling. Godric, do you know?"

"_Liar_!" She spat out. "I heard your thoughts through the trees, as you were watching me! How _dare_ you, you_ rude_ piece of _swine_!"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, woman!" Eric shouted over her gruffly. "As if I would watch you!"

"I _saw_ you!"

"Well, you are gravely mistaken."

Godric watched on silently in amusement as the pair continued arguing. The irony did not escape him. Husband and wife, indeed. Already they were bickering like a man and wife joined in union. In this, he saw the potential for love.


End file.
